


A Purr-fect Companion

by scintilla10



Category: Think of England - K. J. Charles
Genre: Animal Transformation, Declarations Of Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Train Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/pseuds/scintilla10
Summary: In which Daniel does not return when expected, and Archie befriends a very familiar-looking cat.





	A Purr-fect Companion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bravofiftyone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravofiftyone/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide bravofiftyone! I hope you enjoy this. <3
> 
> Thanks very much to A for the beta.

Archie waited until the last passenger had departed the platform at Paddington. He craned his neck one last time, but Daniel did not emerge.

He frowned. Daniel had ordered him not to worry. In fact, he'd warned Archie that his trip to Oxford may take an additional night. But he'd also promised to send word if his investigation went long, and Archie had not heard from him.

The trip was related to Daniel’s scholarly interests, rather than any investigation from Sir Maurice’s office, so it had not seemed likely to be dangerous. But Archie should have known not to let Daniel out of his sight when it came to investigations of any sort. There was a reason his uncle had hired him after all, and it was certainly not for Archie’s dubious skill at espionage. 

Archie had offered to come, of course, citing his uncle’s orders. Daniel had huffed and told him, "It will be hours in a dusty library, and I can guarantee they won't even have my book of poetry to keep your mind occupied.” Archie had opened his mouth to reply to that assassination of his ability to amuse himself in a library, but Daniel had slid distractingly into Archie’s lap, and added, “Better you stay here and then give me a proper welcome home."

He'd sucked gently on the spot under Archie's ear, and Archie allowed himself to be athletically diverted for a very pleasant period of time.

None of that was sufficient to distract Archie from his duty, however, as he explained to a sweaty and limp Daniel some time later.

Daniel groaned, and buried his head in the pillow. “It has nothing to do with your blasted uncle,” he had said.

The rest of his explanation Archie didn’t fully understand, but it involved an unusual translation of a Norse saga. It made Daniel’s eyes gleam. Archie had eventually conceded that there was very little likelihood Daniel would run into trouble he couldn’t handle.

And now Daniel had missed his train. Of course, there were any number of banal explanations for missing one’s train. Archie was running through all of them in his head. 

He assessed his options.There were no other trains to Oxford that night. As far as Archie knew, there was no telephone exchange at the inn where Daniel was staying. He could try to hire a car and driver — if any could be found at this hour, chances of which seemed slim.

There was a chance Daniel had sent word to the flat and his message had been delayed until after Archie had left. He should go back there and check before he went rushing off to Oxford on nothing more than a missed train. Daniel was generally punctual to a fault, but if there was a library to explore he might be buried in dust and papers, or he stayed too late drinking with scholarly types.

Archie walked as briskly as his leg could stand to Daniel’s address, and exchanged furtive apologies with Daniel's landlady for the late hour. Mrs. Hughes was very discreet and generally paid no mind to Archie’s regular presence in the flat, but she preferred to keep very regular hours.

When Archie inquired about a telegram or a message, she cast him a quick glance, but shook her head. "No," she said. "There's been no word."

Archie thanked her, and headed for the stairs. Maybe Daniel had taken an earlier train and was inside his rooms, impatiently wondering what was taking Archie so long. Maybe he was safely back in a room in Oxford, scribbling a telegram for the landlord to send out first thing.

There were all manner of rational explanations, but Archie's mind kept returning to a dark cave, the sound of cold water dripping, and the sight of Daniel's dark head hanging low. 

Archie shook his head. Daniel was looking at an old Norse manuscript at the behest of a scholarly colleague, not stirring up trouble with treasonous murderers.

Archie determined to try and catch a few hour's sleep before catching the very first train to Oxford. Then he intended to find Daniel and kiss him furiously before he gave him a piece of his mind.

He reached the landing and in two steps was at Daniel's door. He threw it wide open.

The room was empty except for the cat.

Archie had held a sliver of hope that Daniel might be in the room. He hadn't expected to find anyone -- or anything -- else.

It was a sleek black beast with long whiskers and white socks, sitting casually on the table amidst a pile of Daniel’s papers. It let out a distinctly reproachful meow as Archie took a step inside. It didn't move, though its tail began to twitch. Archie wondered how it had managed to get by Mrs Hughes.

“Hello,” Archie said dumbly, staring at the cat. “Where did you come from?”

The cat stared at him unblinking.

When the cat did not move, Archie added, “Ah -- shoo.”

The cat, very deliberately, began to wash itself.

“That’s my table,” Archie added, foolishly, even though it wasn't exactly. But Daniel had told him to take care of his room while he was away, and even though Archie would much rather be taking care of Daniel, he was going to take his duty seriously. 

Archie cautiously extended his good hand. The cat looked up from its -- his, definitely _his_ \-- industrious washing to eye Archie's hand skeptically. He delicately reached out to sniff Archie's fingers and, apparently, was placated. He resumed his acrobatic bath.

Daniel had not mentioned that Archie might expect a feline visitor. In all the times that Archie had stayed here, there had never been a cat. The cat certainly seemed at home in the apartment, however. And the window was firmly closed, so Archie was not sure how it had entered in the first place.

"How did you get in here?" he asked. "Did Daniel --?"

The cat let out a yowl.

"Shush," Archie said quickly. "Do you want us both out on the street?"

Mrs Hughes was not the sort to kick a person out in the middle of the night, but the cat didn't know that.

The cat glared at him, then stood up and began paced back and forth on the table, tail lashing. The tip of his tail was white to match his white socks. 

Archie was unexpectedly reminded of the way Daniel tossed his head when he was in a temper.

Archie shook his head. Daniel was undoubtedly resting comfortably in a bed somewhere, and soon Archie would have the chance to push him up against a wall and remind him never to do this to him again.

The cat made an unholy noise and, as Archie looked up, startled, deliberately pushed Daniel's pencil off the table with his paw.

They both watched it roll away under the bed.

"Well," Archie said. "I suppose you're hungry." 

The cat yowled agreement. Bemused, Archie peeked under a cloth on the table to find the plate of cold dinner left by Mrs Hughes. He broke off a piece of cheese. The cat ate it delicately and looked at him expectantly.

"Oh all right," Archie said, and fed the cat more cheese.

Archie wondered what his uncle would say to see Archie hand feed a stray cat in this way. Archie had always been practical about animals; cats in the barn and hounds in the kitchens. He was not the type to bring home wounded animals, and he hadn't quite imagined it of Daniel either. 

But the cat was clearly a return visitor. He did not look like a stray, either; he appeared to be a well-fed handsome creature.

Of course he was well-fed, Archie thought in bemusement, if he wandered into strangers' apartments and demanded they feed him their own dinner.

After eating the cheese, the cat took a turn about the room and, apparently satisfied that his territory was in order, came over to rub himself on Archie's leg. 

Archie hesitantly leaned down to pet the cat, his fingers brushing the soft ears and silky fur on the cat’s head.

“Oh,” Archie said softly, and smiled down at the cat, who gave a rumbly sort of purr. He tentatively pulled off his glove on his right hand and pet the cat with his bare fingers.

"What a handsome tomcat," he told the cat, who purred even louder. He couldn’t help feel unaccountably fond.

It seemed impossibly cozy and domestic all of a sudden, to imagine this congenial fellow curled up on his lap in the evenings, while Daniel muttered over his papers at the table. Archie's presence in Daniel’s life was still so new, and he was not sure if Daniel would be willing to tolerate such blatant domesticity. As for Archie — well, he would take whatever Daniel was willing to give him.

He shook his head, annoyed with himself. Neither his nor Daniel’s life was currently suited for such domestic bliss.

“I’m a lovesick fool,” he told the cat, surprising himself into honesty. He let his bare fingers linger on the messy pile of papers Daniel had left on the table. He didn’t read them. Daniel had strong opinions about sharing his work before it was finished, and Archie was disinclined to betray the trust Daniel had extended by leaving the papers in plain sight.

“I expect you have the right idea, a handsome tomcat like you, with the whole neighbourhood feeding you cheese and fish and whatnot,” Archie added. “Or whatever else it is cats eat. Go wherever you please and answer to no one.”

The cat let out a dissatisfied noise, half-meow, half-growl.

“No, I know, but that’s not the life for me,” Archie told him. 

The cat meowed agreeably. He hopped up on the bed and stretched out luxuriously, baring a slender soft-looking white belly.

“Oh, fine,” Archie said. “Just one night. Daniel will be home soon, and we’ll be wanting the place to ourselves, I can tell you that.”

The cat ignored him, and stretched out more comfortably in the bed.

Archie sat at the kitchen table. The cat was a surprisingly enjoyable companion, and a distraction from his concern for Daniel. An anxiety that was very likely unfounded, after all.

Tomorrow, he determined, he would catch the very first train to Oxford. Daniel might be annoyed to see him unnecessarily, but Archie did not care in the least. 

He ate a piece of bread and cheese himself, and watched the cat. 

Daniel’s translated Norse saga had something to do with cats, he remembered. One of the goddesses, was it? She had a carriage pulled by cats. It was odd that now Archie’s evening was also occupied by feline concerns, and he felt it was sure to make Daniel laugh. 

The cat stretched, rose, and began to wander the room again. As he brushed by the bookcase, he managed to knock a book onto the floor. It was Daniel's book of poems. Archie couldn’t help but smile.

"Meow," the cat said, staring at Archie.

“Well,” Archie said. “He’s certainly had worse reviews that that. I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

The cat narrowed his eyes at him and then, very deliberately, sat on Daniel's book.

Archie was startled into a laugh. "I can see why the two of you get along," he said.

The cat meowed at him. 

"Your conversation is as good as any at the club," he added. 

The cat looked affronted.

"Better than any at the club," Archie amended. Perhaps he was making a fool of himself holding a conversation with a cat, but there was no one here to see him. 

"Tomorrow, when Daniel gets home --"

The cat yowled again.

Archie frowned. That was the third time the cat had responded to Daniel's name. In his limited experience with cats, they did not bother to respond to their own names, much less anyone else’s.

"When Daniel arrives --"

Again an unholy yowl from the cat.

"Daniel --"

Again.

Archie stared into the unblinking green eyes of the sleek black cat. It was impossible. It was absolutely not possible that —

Daniel had promised to send word. Daniel knew intimately how much Archie would worry if he were missing. Daniel had never mentioned a black cat in his home. Daniel had been talking about a Norse goddess’ carriage pulled by cats —

The cat narrowed his eyes at him in an achingly familiar way.

"Daniel?" he whispered.

The cat sprang towards him so quickly that Archie rocked backwards in surprise, but the cat only rubbed himself on Archie's legs, purring loudly.

Archie dropped to the floor. "Daniel?" he said again, unable to believe it.

The cat delicately reached out to sniff his right hand, and then, with great care and delicacy, gently licked the rough skin of his scarred fingers. 

Archie's heart twisted. 

The cat -- Daniel -- sat back and looked at him imperiously.

"Fuck, fuck, Daniel," Archie said helplessly and reached out to touch the soft black fur while Daniel purred under his fingertips.

It was impossible. Archie had never been given to flights of fancy, and he didn’t believe his sanity was in question. But sometimes things were awfully straightforward, even when they were patently unbelievable. And the cat looked up at him with green eyes — Daniel’s eyes, undeniably — and Archie knew with a bone-deep certainty that Daniel was no longer in Oxford.

“I’ve been missing you,” he said helplessly. Daniel _mrrr-_ ed sadly. “What happened to you?”

He let his hand fall into Daniel’s soft fur, and wondered what on God's green earth he was supposed to do now.

~~~

After some time, Archie went to wash himself. When he came back, Daniel was curled up in the middle of the bed. Archie reached out to stroke him. He was soft, and he twitched his tail when Archie ran the fingers of his good hand over the curve of Daniel's spine. Daniel arched into it, just a little.

Archie's heart softened.

 

Tomorrow, he would take Daniel with him to Oxford to see about this damn manuscript and demand whoever was in charge of — of — of it all change him back. Daniel had left a letter on the dresser with his correspondence from the Oxford don who had invited Daniel to see the blasted thing, and Archie was inclined to bang on the old fellow's door until he did something about it.

Perhaps he should be more worried about appearing a madman, but getting Daniel back took priority. 

It appeared that Daniel had never gone to Oxford at all, or else he had been returned to London by someone. And if the latter, then that someone knew that Daniel was not supposed to be a cat.

“We will go to Oxford, and we will fix this,” he said to Daniel, who let out a sleepy agreeable noise.

Reassured to have a plan of action, Archie stripped off his clothes. Daniel grudgingly permitted Archie to lie next to him, and Archie fell asleep with a soft gentle snore in his ear.

~~~

Archie made it to Paddington in time for the first train to Oxford. There were no empty compartments, so he reluctantly sat in a carriage with a pair of ladies, who gave him identical regal nods.

He nodded back and surreptitiously opened the wicker picnic basket he was carrying. He peered in. Daniel glared back at him, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

These undignified travel arrangements were the best Archie could come up with, and he winced again in apology and closed the lid of the basket.

He would head straight from the train station in Oxford to Balliol, where the don taught. Surely the old fellow would have been up and breakfasted. If not, Archie was fully prepared to press the issue.

He laid a hand reassuringly on the top of the basket and, under the cover of a cough, whispered, "I'll see you shortly," to Daniel. He settled back in the seat.

Archie hadn't been back to Oxford in an age, not since he'd been at school, but there was something calming and familiar about the train journey through the countryside in the early morning light. At the same time, it seemed to take hours longer than expected and Archie shifted anxiously.

There was a slim sliver of his heart that was desperately worried that he’d never see Daniel again, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bear it.

The ladies, reassured by Archie's lack of attempt to make conversation, had thawed towards him a little. When Archie stood up with the basket to take a turn down the hallway and stretch the muscles in his leg, one of them said, in a tone of voice that brooked no argument, "You may leave your belongings here with us."

Archie hesitated and, as a frown gathered in her forehead, acquiesced. He took a quicker walk than he had first intended, and returned to the carriage. His companions gave him synchronous nods again. Archie nodded in return.

The wicker basket was open, just a little.

Archie stared at it in dismay, then quickly sat down to peer inside. It was empty.

He swore under his breath.

The ladies were paying him no mind. Surely they would have noticed a cat in the compartment. Archie glanced around furtively, but Daniel was nowhere in sight.

Of all the stubborn, bone-headed feline things to do …

Archie sent another nod in the direction of the ladies, and quickly exited the compartment. 

He spotted Daniel quickly, a black shadow at the end of the hallway. Relief swept over him. Archie called softly for him, but Daniel either did not hear or ignored him. Archie headed straight for him.

"Daniel!" he hissed.

As he got closer, he realized that Daniel was very meticulously stalking a piece of string that was moving slightly with the vibration of the train. As it moved, he wiggled closer, his head and his front paws low to the ground and his tail twitching.

Archie had been reluctant to manhandle Daniel while he was in this feline form, as it seemed presumptuous and unequal somehow. He’d coaxed Daniel into the basket in the first place that morning with several pieces of cheese. But sometimes urgent action was called for; he scooped Daniel up quickly, who emitted an affronted squawk. 

"I'm sorry," Archie told him, struggling to contain Daniel's wriggling limbs. "But I can't risk losing you. You know how much I —“ He stopped, and spread his gloved hand on Daniel’s warm fur.

Daniel quieted a little and allowed himself to be carried back to the compartment. His newly revealed presence drew extremely frosty stares from the two ladies.

Archie ignored them, and deposited Daniel back in the basket where he fed him a piece of cheese. Daniel accepted the cheese with ill grace.

"Sir," one of the ladies said in an imperious tone. "Is that an animal in your picnic basket?"

"Not at all," Archie replied with some truthfulness, and did not in the least feel guilty when they huffed and muttered together for the rest of the journey.

When they reached Oxford, Archie and Daniel disembarked and headed immediately to Balliol. Unwilling to risk another incident by taking a cab, Archie chose to brave the walk even with his leg. It wasn't aching much at all.

Archie had not been a Balliol man, but he knew the college well and found his way there with no trouble. The porter at the gate told him the old man was in his rooms, but he wouldn't let Archie in without an appointment. Archie gave him Daniel's name, and both he and the porter manfully ignored the loud meow from inside the basket.

The man eventually let them up to the don's door. As Archie knocked on the door, he realized he had black fur all over his jacket. 

The old man who opened the door took one look at him and said, "Ah -- ah. You're not Mr. da Silva."

"No," Archie said and, feeling no need to beat around the bush, opened the basket and added, " _This_ is Mr. da Silva."

Daniel poked his head out with a very indignant air and let out a yowl the moment he saw the professor.

"All right, all right," the old man said. "I suppose you'd better both come in."

The room inside was typical of a don's study as Archie remembered them: full of ancient furniture covered in towering piles of books and papers that he’s been terrified he’d be forced to read. The professor waved vaguely to a settee, which Archie carefully excavated after he set the wicker basket on the floor and let Daniel out.

"Good to see you again, Mr. da Silva," the old man said politely to Daniel. 

Daniel meowed at him several times in a row, and the professor nodded along.

"Quite right," he said afterwards. "You needn't have bothered to travel all this way," he added in Archie's direction. "He'll be back to himself shortly."

"Back to his human self?" Archie clarified.

The professor blinked at him. "Why, yes," he said.

Archie let his shoulders relax a little, though he would not be fully comfortable until he saw Daniel again with his own eyes.

"As relieved as I am to hear that," he said. "How do you know that? And what in God's name is going on?"

"You should have told him," the old man said, apparently to Daniel, who ignored them both and began washing his ruffled fur. He shrugged and seated himself at his desk. "Tea?" he said.

Archie demurred. Daniel perked up. The professor noticed and dropped some crackers on the floor for him that looked somewhat old and stale to Archie’s eye. Daniel nosed them and licked them tentatively before going back to his bath.

"Mr. da Silva is a passionate young man," the professor said, and Archie, surprised at this turn of events, glanced at Daniel questioningly. "This devotion and faithfulness were noticed by Freya as he spent time with her manuscript and, recognizing his gifts and honouring them, she -- well, as you see."

Archie digested this. "You mean to say that a Viking goddess turned him into a cat for reading her book?"

The professor frowned, and Daniel let out a dissatisfied noise. When Archie looked at him, he was glaring disapprovingly in Archie's direction. "Far too simplistic," the professor said. "You know, of course, of Freya's devoted feline companions, who pull her carriage?"

Archie did, in fact, know this particular fact. Thanks to Daniel. He nodded.

"This translation that Mr. da Silva visited me to peruse is a unique one. Reading aloud the text can be … surprising."

"I'll say," Archie muttered.

"A faithful servant, whose heart overflows with love and devotion is a true gift indeed. The words of the manuscript sometimes have unusual power for those who are so blessed. Mr. da Silva is a man whose capacity for love runs deep."

Archie sat with that for a moment, hardly daring to look over at Daniel. When he did, Daniel was casually washing his paw, his head turned away from Archie.

"Love," Archie repeated.

"The effect only lasts about a day," the professor continued. "Only a temporary situation. I expect he will return as normal quite soon. Ravenously hungry, I expect," he added.

"Good God," Archie said, suddenly struck. "How the hell did he get from your study to his room in London?"

"Oh, I had one of my pupils take him on the train," the professor said, waving a hand. "It was quite a nice break from his studies."

Archie sat quietly appalled that Daniel, in his vulnerable little feline body, had been entrusted to a _student_.

"Well," the old man said. "I'll, ah, leave you to it. I'll send up some tea on my way out -- as I said, ravenous."

He departed without much more ado, and Archie was left with Daniel, who came over and hopped up next to him on the settee

"Christ, I hope he's right," Archie murmured to Daniel, who made a comforting noise at him.

Archie was uncomfortably aware that he may be being played for a fool after all. Why would the old man leave him waiting in such a state, Archie could not begin to fathom. He removed his gloves to pet Daniel gently, and Daniel purred and climbed into his lap.

They sat curled together, balanced on the edge of hope, for about half an hour. Archie was reluctant to move in case he disturbed Daniel, but he felt there must be something he could _do_. He preferred action on the whole to a blasted waiting game. They were interrupted only once by the discreet arrival of the tea tray. 

Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, Archie found himself with a very naked and very human Daniel sprawled in his lap.

“Oh my god,” Archie said. “Oh fuck, thank god.”

Daniel blinked at him and then held up one of his own hands to inspect it. Archie reached out to grasp it with his good hand.

“Good god,” Daniel said, his voice scratchy.

“I am so glad to see you,” Archie said sincerely. He ran his eyes frantically over Daniel’s beloved, familiar body, reassured all was present and correct, and pressed a kiss to the warm skin of his shoulder.

Daniel groaned. “What an absolute mess,” he said. He blinked at Archie. “Oh, my dear. You don’t know how much I wanted to pound your damn head for taking so long to understand and dragging me all the way back to damn Oxford.” He shook his head. “And I also wanted to kiss the hell out of you for figuring it out at all.”

“The second option, please,” Archie said, and Daniel obliged by pulling his head down and kissing him.

“It was very straightforward once I worked it out,” Archie said, breathlessly.

“Yes,” Daniel said sardonically. “Straightforward as a parabola, that’s you.”

Archie flashed him a quick smile. “It’s so good to see you,” he said. “You were a — ah — a lovely cat. But I much prefer you this way.”

“I believe I would say the same,” Daniel said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Do you have any of that tea left?”

Archie allowed Daniel to untangle his limbs and sit next to Archie wrapped in a wool blanket he found under some books. Daniel ate his way steadily through the food on the tea tray, and Archie watched him with a hazy sense of relief and impossible fondness.

“Thank god it was only temporary,” he said fervently.

“Yes,” Daniel said, ducking his head. “A spell broken by love’s true kiss, I imagine. Isn’t that how the fairytale goes?” 

His tone purposefully light. Archie watched him carefully, uncertain whether his very apparent feelings would be welcomed. He’d never felt very much like he was living in a fairytale. 

“I imagine you think me a fool,” he said at last.

“No,” said Daniel quickly, looking up. “ _No._ I am overcome.” He reached out to touch Archie’s cheek with his palm. “I hope you know by now that, though I could never have imagined it, your feelings are reciprocated ten times over.”

Archie felt a smile stretch wide across his face. “Is that so? Perhaps you could convince me.”

Daniel smiled back. “It would be my pleasure,” he said.

“By the way,” Archie said, some time later. L”How do you think Mrs. Hughes would feel about a cat?”

Daniel raised his head to stare at him. “You want to get a cat?”

Archie grinned cheerfully. “You were a very pleasant companion as a tomcat,” he said.

Daniel growled and kissed him again, but he didn’t say no and Archie took that to be a very good sign indeed.


End file.
